BYU Culture

These are my answers to some scholarship requirements here are BYU, I think I was hating BYU when i actually wrote it...my counselor at the scholarship office emailed me the same day i sent this in and wanted to know how i was doing...hahaha.  Mads told me to put it up here so here it is Mads!

“What is the BYU Culture?”

BYU is a culture chalk full of extremes.  We have the religious extremist who try to impose their person beliefs on everyone around them.  Granted this is a religious university so this is tolerated and expected, however there are all sorts of extremist on campus.  Liberals who find fundamental mormon living ridiculous, there is also a sense of being alone among this overcrowded campus.  One can walk around campus all day and never feel like he is welcome or seen.  There is an interesting unspoken rule here on campus.  Unless you are close friends you do not talk to each other while walking around. It is funny that you can be so close to so many people and not know any of them. It feels like BYU culture seems to mimic that of a large metropolis in which one must fend for themselves and make no mistakes or you will be thrown to the curb and left behind. Also for some reason unbeknownst to me the mustache is making a come back. I hope that this does not become a big part of BYU's ever "evolving" culture, I pray that we skip the seventies! On a more serious note the culture is fun when one finds his group of close friends that make living in Provo bearable.  So in summary the BYU culture is very diverse in the smallest way possible to still be labeled diverse.  Sure there are extremes, but since everyone is so opinionated you lose the sense of difference here.  Its like politics, take away the party names and the parties are exactly the same. 

“Are you successful or are there frustrations in this culture?”

I dont think anyone can ever have success without a great deal of frustration.  Take for instance my success in my writing class.  I love to write I even have a blog now! I mean I feel so very technologically advanced.  But to get an A on my papers I have had to work my tail off!  A poem that I got an A on took about 30 drafts to get into the final product, that was frustrating and oh so annoying.  However when i try to say whether or not I am successful within the BYU Culture I am perplexed.  I want to say that yes I do! Because here within this culture you are somehow judge as a good mormon depending on how well you fit in with those who live the perfect BYU life.  Sadly I do not fit in perfectly but I do have my place here and I love it.  BYU is a great institution that does strive to make us into the best people we can be.  For that I am grateful, even if it does lack in many things that I personally see as important.  The greatest frustration from me is that fact that BYU demands near perfection out of its alum, but then in most cases refuses to help by claiming that services designed to help students are too overwhelmed.  I would answer stop letting so many people in, it would sure open up the parking lot a lot more. Take as an example the science classes, I sit in these rooms with 300 other students and learn absolutely nothing, which is not good considering I am a science major! Oh yes, the culture of BYU is a fun one that is for sure.  But it is survivable and we try the best we can! You cant really ask any more then that. 

Perdition

I have been working on this story for quite a while now.  As seen under the Evolution tab, where you can find the earlier drafts of this. I skipped a few drafts but I think this is the final draft. Hopefully...

            Eroklin’s strong hand gripped the dying man’s throat; he wouldn’t let go until he saw the life leave his eyes. The fat man in his grasp struggled as the fear coated his face like the sheet that covers a corpse. Eroklin’s hands ached from the effort while his mind raced with the sheer joy of the kill.  The fat man gave one last bit of struggle.  Then nothing.
            “My God!” whimpered a second man, a captain, whom Eroklin had let get ahead in the darkness. Turning, Eroklin saw the dim outline of his next kill.  He was familiar with the shadow. The faint trace of a captain’s hat betrayed the man’s status.  He had stalked these two men for hours waiting to attack.  His breathing grew more erratic as the excitement of his next kill swept like fire through his body.  He rose silently to his full stature. He was imposing, huge, and strong from the years of exile on this island.  This island where he was God.  

“Stay…stay away from me you... God, what are you?” The scared man shrieked. The captain’s fear only served to increase the fire blazing within Eroklin.  
            Another kill.  Another month of food.  Eroklin’s dark face contorted into an eager smile.  He stalked through the darkness towards the captain.  He could sense his prey’s body tense.   Eroklin came within inches of the man.  He could see the strain of muscles on his prey’s white face as its eyes squeezed shut. Then Eroklin froze, suddenly tense himself.  He knew this man.  He slouched to the stature of the shorter captain, his breathing becoming quick and shallow.
            The captain’s face relaxed as he opened his blue eyes and focused on the man that stood before him. The captain’s eyes widened.  Panic rushed through Eroklin’s veins as he threw himself back away from this man whose pallor seemed to glow in the night.  
            Eroklin stared at the captain who now looked larger then he.  His darkened, hate-filled eyes met the captain’s silver blue gaze.  Then the captain took a step forward. His eyes softened as he quietly dominated the night.  “Captain Joseph?”  His head tilted slightly to the right.
            Eroklin’s thundering heart seemed to stop.  His breath left him as his mind tried to comprehend the words spoken to him.  Was he still Joseph?  Captain Joseph had died so long ago.

            “Is that you? My God! What has happened to you?  They told me you died at sea.  They… they found your ship.”  The captain’s words were strong in Eroklin’s ears. 
            He’s dead!  Eroklin thought to himself.  That weak man did die at sea.   He looked at the captain.  Joseph is dead. Dead…
            “Joseph… I knew you were still alive.”  The captain muttered, sounding proud of himself.  The captain stepped closer to the shadow of the man that struggled in the darkness.  
            Eroklin’s anger erupted  “You don’t… no!” he said as he took one long step towards this white captain, regaining his god-like control.  “I am not…” Eroklin’s face flashed red, realizing that he couldn’t explain himself, “…lost at sea!” he snarled as he started towards the captain.  Power coursed through his limbs.  
            Grabbing the captain by the throat with his left hand, he pulled a dull knife out with his right, pressing the cold steal hard against the captain’s face.  “Joseph, don’t!  Think of Elizabeth!” the captain cried out desperately.
            Eroklin was overcome with the long forgotten beauty of that woman.  Elizabeth. Her long blond hair flowing languidly in the wind as she smiled at her husband.  He dropped his right hand.  Tears wet long forgotten trails down Eroklin’s weathered face.  He couldn’t kill this man.  He couldn’t destroy this fragile connection to his Elizabeth.  He could go back!  See her again!  But how? How could he face her after what he had become?  

            His left hand limp on the captain’s throat felt the vibrations of speech.  “Joseph, give me the knife.  I… I can take care of you.”  The captain’s voice was tender in its control.
            At this last request Eroklin’s hands tensed.  He was the one in charge.  This captain had no power over him. Not here. Not on his island.  He had power here.  Not this damned captain with his feeble words, or the fading memory of Elizabeth.

            “…Joseph…Joseph was weak!” He said as the knife pierced and twisted in the captain’s chest, the dying face powerless in Eroklin’s glare. 

Irrational Fear

The mind, a black hole ^of irrational fears

^{Our actions}, _vain without the veil ^of irrational thought

Vision clears when irrationality’s spectacles _are worn

Then once seen we can never rationally forget this…

^{Irrational fears} need _{irrational answers}

For in the mind ^{no other answer} can truly _be thought

We all in irrationality ^and superstition reside

^{Until at last we} _{give in to the} ^sightless _rationality

That ^{frees us} from the weight ^of _irrational ^insanity_!